Enkindling the Embers
by Ponygirl7
Summary: Yet another Robin/Maria story: short, sweet, simple, and savory. Please read, please review, and as always, please enjoy!
**A Moonacre Fanfiction Enkindling the Embers**

Maria Merryweather leaned over from her bed and blew out her candle, a blanket of quiet darkness flooding over her room. A cool breeze drifted in through her open window, whispering in the stillness of the night. All was quiet in Moonacre Valley that night; all was well. It had been a few weeks since Maria had saved the valley, and things had been going smoothly since then.

The Merryweathers and the De Noirs were getting along swimmingly, preparing for Uncle Benjamin and Loveday's wedding. Miss Heliotrope was on leave, going on vacation with butler Digweed to meet his family. Maria smiled at the sweetness of her tutor's quiet affair. Soon there would be another wedding aside from Uncle Benjamin and Loveday. Yes, the De Noir and Merryweather clans were now good friends.

Maria's thoughts turned to Robin. Lately it had become a common occurrence to see the beloved bowler hat bobbing up the Moonacre Manor staircase. She hadn't seen him today; but she wanted to see him tomorrow morning. After all, he was leaving tomorrow to embark on a hunting trip that would last a couple weeks, and she had lent him a special book that she dearly wanted back. She hoped he hadn't forgotten. Boys are _so_ bad at remembering things, Maria thought with a little smile.

She shifted in her bed to look up at her ceiling. Her room was in fact magical, and at night the ceiling was a virtual night sky. Starlight glowed softly down from the dark, velvety heavens. Maria sighed. How wonderful life is! She let her thoughts wander where they would, and soon her eyelids began to droop lower and lower until at last her eyelashes brushed against her cheek, and she was asleep.

Perhaps she slept for an hour, perhaps two. But all of a sudden a noise startled Maria and she sat bolt upright in bed. Her heart pounded wildly. What was it? Could it be a thief? The manor was full of valuable antiques. She held her breath. There it was again! She tensed. It sounded almost as though it was coming from outside her window. She froze in fear. Whoever it was, soon they would be in her room! She was almost paralyzed with fright, but she ordered herself to think.

Maria scanned the room, looking for something, anything in the dim moonlight. Her eyes caught on her candlestick. It was brass. It was small, but it was heavy. She detached the candle from it and gripped it tight. Sliding out of bed, she placed a bare foot on the cold wooden floor. Shivering in her nightgown, Maria neared her window, heart racing. She peered out only enough to glimpse a dark figure clinging to the ivy that grew up the wall.

Here was a problem; Maria had to wait until the burglar stepped inside her room to hit him; otherwise she could not reach him. And of course, if he fell from such a height, he would surely be killed. While Maria was absolutely terrified of burglars she did not want to kill anyone, merely knock them out. Then she would get Sir Benjamin. Of course she would have to tie the burglar up…

She pressed herself up against the wall. Now he couldn't see her until it was too late and she had the upper hand. She waited breathlessly, clutching the candlestick with an iron grasp. The sounds grew louder; he was getting closer. Maria desperately wanted to scream, but she knew that the burglar could harm her before anyone else came. No, it would be better to knock him unconscious quickly and then to run for help.

The sounds were quite loud now. Maria was still as a statue, although the cool wind made her want to shake with cold and fright. The burglar laid a hand on the windowsill. She made nary a sound. She had to wait until the entire person was inside, otherwise he could fall and die. The dark form emerged. From her vantage point Maria couldn't see much. She waited. He finally stepped through the windowsill and into her bedroom.

In one fell swoop, Maria swung the candlestick with all her might upon the burglar's bowler hat, and he toppled to the ground, senseless.

Wait, bowler hat?

Maria's jaw dropped.

"Robin?" she whispered in disbelief.

She dropped the candlestick and bent down, pushing the body over. The moonlight streamed through the window now, beaming on the rugged face of Robin De Noir. "Robin!" Maria exclaimed. But he did not answer, for when Maria intended to knock someone unconscious, she certainly knocked them out cold. Maria slapped his face gently. "Robin! Robin, wake up!" He made no reply. Maria frowned in consternation. The poor boy! She hoped she had not hurt him. But what could he have been doing at such a time as this? It was nearly midnight, she supposed. Her gaze fell upon his hand, in which he clutched a book. Maria's book, she realized with a pang. He had come to return it before he left tomorrow.

Then Maria remembered that she kept a glass of water by her bed. Quickly, she retrieved it and dashed it on Robin's face. She waited for a response. Nothing. She slapped his face again. And waited.

This time, his eyes fluttered, and he moaned. "Robin!" she exclaimed. "Robin, wake up!" he blinked. "Maria? Where—" "You're in my room," she explained, "You came to return my book." He frowned. "I did. But why…why does my head hurt?" he groaned. Maria sighed. "I thought you were a burglar. I hit you with my candlestick." He managed a rueful grin. "Well, I'll never have to worry about you being kidnapped then, Princess," he said. "But good grief, my head _hurts_!"

He began to stand up, but he almost fell to the ground again. Maria caught him, and struggled under his weight. "Let's get you to the bed," she said, and helped him stumble over to the bed. He rolled over on top of the quilt. Maria sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, Robin, I really am." He shook his head. "You didn't know it was me. I should've warned you, but I didn't think of it until it was too late. And I figured since I'll be leaving first thing in the morning—" "So soon?" Maria broke in, sounding crestfallen. Robin rather appreciated her dismay. "It's a long ride. Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's just…you'll be gone for two weeks, and—" "Three," Robin corrected. Maria seemed deflated. "Three." She repeated flatly. "It just seems like a long time, doesn't it?" Robin squinted, trying to make sense of what Maria was saying. Perhaps he was hallucinating, but it seemed as though she didn't want him to go. Could it be…?

"My father was excited for this trip. He thought it'd be a nice way to spend some father-son time together." Maria sighed. "But three weeks? Aren't you going to miss Moonacre? And…and everything?" She wanted to say 'and me', but it would be foolish to say such a thing. It wasn't as though…no, surely not. Robin managed a shrug. "Well, yes, but I'll be back." Maria fixed her eyes on the quilt, running a hand absently over the smooth satin. "I know, I guess. I just…that's three weeks!" It was hard to say what she wanted to say without saying…well, she'd grown so used to having Robin around. She knew her life would feel empty, void.

Poor Robin didn't know what to say. "Is there something I should know? Is there a reason I shouldn't go? Tell me if there is, Maria." He only used her real name when he was in earnest. She squirmed uncomfortably. "I just…I like having you here in Moonacre, close by." Robin took her fidgety hand. "Do you?" he asked seriously, dark eyes penetrating. Maria blushed, but she couldn't deny it. "I do." She said.

"Well, of course you do," Robin said, sitting back contentedly. "Who doesn't like me?" Maria raised an eyebrow. "You have an ego bigger than Napoleon's!" she declared, irritated by his sudden change of attitude. Just for a moment, she had caught a glimpse of something different, a more mature Robin. But now the old Robin was back. He chuckled. "I'm a little bigger than Napoleon too, y'know."

Maria grumbled. "A bigger dimwit, perhaps." Robin's hunter's ears heard it. "A handsomer dimwit," he corrected. "A big old egotistical, self-centered, oblivious dimwit," Maria said sharply. "A big old egotistical, self-centered, oblivious, handsome, clever dimwit," Robin finished. Maria huffed. "If you're so clever, why are you a dimwit? It's impossible." Robin grinned. "I'm Robin De Noir. I can do the impossible."

Maria arose from her seat and strode over to the window. She took a shaky breath. Robin frowned. He hadn't meant to upset Maria; he was just trying to lighten the mood. But now was she angry with him? Of course she was angry! He had tried to sneak into her room, for goodness' sake! "I liked the book," Robin said meekly. Maria turned. "Did you, or are you just saying that?" she sighed with the air of an injured female.

"I really did," Robin insisted sincerely. "I've never read a book so well-written." Maria looked down, and Robin saw tears glistening in her eyes. "My mother wrote it," she said. Robin held up the book to the moonlight. "Eliza Jane Merryweather." He read. "It really is a wonderful book. Come here, Princess," he invited her. She sniffed, and went over to sit by him. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to cry," she apologized. "It's just…I lost my mother. She died when I was young. And now my father is gone. I guess…" she looked up at Robin. "I'm afraid to lose anyone I love. That's why…that's why I don't want you to go."

Robin wasn't sure how to reply. Instead, he put his arm around Maria and held her for a moment as she dried her tears. "Princess, I'll always be here for you," he promised. "Don't ever worry about losing me." Maria felt his warm arm around her, comforting her, supporting her. She could rely on Robin. She could trust Robin. "Thank you, Robin." She whispered. His neck feathers tickled her cheek. He breathed into her soft hair. "Anything for you, Princess."

How long they sat there in comfortable silence, we don't know. But at last Robin said with a sigh, "I must go. You've got to get to sleep." Maria was still worried. "Are you sure you're all right? Does your head hurt?" Robin shook his head reassuringly. "Nah, I'm fine. It takes a lot to damage a skull this thick." Maria laughed. "I believe it. All right, then," he walked over to the window. "I'll see you in three weeks, Princess." He said. Maria looked up at him, an unidentified emotion brimming in her eyes. "I'll miss you, Robin." She whispered ardently. "I'll miss you too, Princess." He replied, dark eyes gazing deep into hers.

And before Maria knew what was happening, Robin bent down and gently kissed her. "I'll be back," he promised, stepping out the window. Heart fluttering, cheeks flushing, and eyes dancing, Maria watched him leave. "I'll be here," she vowed. And she watched him climb nimbly down the wall and saunter off toward the woods. At the very edge of the forest, he raised a hand in farewell. She mirrored the gesture, and watched him disappear into the shadows of the trees.

Maria watched until he was long gone, the quiet breeze caressing her blushing cheeks. When she turned back toward her bedroom, she was smiling. This was not the last she'd seen of Robin De Noir.

A/N: Lovely, lovely reader,

Thank you so much for taking time to read my story! If the title was utter nonsense to you, it is taken from a quote by Comte de Bussy-Rabutin: "Absence is to love as wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small and enkindles the great." My line of thought consisted of the fact that Robin would be leaving soon, hence the absence, and since they now have a [somewhat] strong love (the ember) it would be stoked into a fire. At any rate, if you have any other interpretations of it, let me know. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I derived from writing it! I greatly appreciate any reviews or comments you may have, and heartily welcome all and any ideas for more Moonacre fanfiction. If you've read any of my other stories, you will know that several have been written on the basis of suggestions from readers such as yourself. I will now close this obnoxiously long author's note. Thanks again!

Your ever elated,

Ponygirl7 :)


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